


So now you want to read?

by cherry3point14



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And I still failed French, F/M, Just a little bit of pining, Not exactly proud of it, This is just based off of something I once did during a French exam, and a little bit of sheer brilliance, fake god, fake research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 15:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15416067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherry3point14/pseuds/cherry3point14
Summary: You need a break and you think you’ve figured out the perfect way to not research. That is it’s perfect until you need your research.





	So now you want to read?

**Author's Note:**

> A short oneshot based during S12? Basically whenever Sam is in the library (so all the time).   
> Warnings: Blink and you’ll miss it violence. Allusions to human sacrifice

You were a genius. One day the finest scholars would dare to try and unravel the subtle intricacies of your mind and they would, undoubtedly, fail. Because you’d been sitting with super nerd Sam for the past week now and he still had no idea that you weren’t doing research.

He was better at research anyway so it’s a victimless crime really.

You had briefly considered telling Dean of your brilliance and how you were getting away with it. You know, paying it forward, but somehow you just _knew_ that he would get you caught. Probably by getting caught himself and then ratting you out to take the fall.  

The trick was cliff notes. Or at least the text summarizer you found online. For twenty minutes prep, you had found a quick way to create compelling lore cliff notes. A little scanning with your phone, let the OCR app do its magic and then plop that into the text summarizer. Bingo, bongo baby.

Then all you had to do is decide what you wanted to do with your time. One time you’d watched four episodes of the office on your phone, it wasn’t the first time you’d researched with your headphones on after all. Yesterday you’d sat there genuinely reading, just not the ridiculously dull, half Old Russian book on ritual sacrifices.

The best part? Whenever he looked up at you with those big, round eyes of his and asked you how it was going you had your little summary right there to casually throw into the conversation.

“Getting through it, I don’t think there’s anything on why we’re seeing this pattern in South Carolina, I mean this is just going on and on about the deity Perun, a big deal by the way, like a mix of Thor and Odin. But I don’t think twelfth century Slavic is going to help.”

You almost crack when he smiles at you like you might just be the most helpful person in the universe, “don’t worry Y/N, we’ll figure this out.”

Yep. You can feel the guilt creeping up your chest. You know you should be helping. You almost throw down the trashy romance novel you're reading in favor of actually reading the huge chronicle you’re balancing on your knees. 

But you just wanted a little downtime and with the number of cases you’d been working lately, this was the only way you might get it.

Besides Sam loved research, so it was a victimless crime… right? 

* * *

 

The Thor looking piece of work has you tied up against an oak tree. Luckily, it’s young and narrow enough that your arms aren’t being painfully pulled from their sockets while you try to maneuver yourself out of the bonds, unluckily the boy scout knew his knots and the whole process was taking you longer than you hoped.

And considering Dean is being prepared for some good old-fashioned human sacrifice you really needed to get free.

Sam is struggling the same as you, his bigger hands against the tough knots proving harder than expected. You make it out first and wait only a minute, until the God wannabe is distracted with some concoction he’s mixing, before you slip out of sight to free Sam.

He turns to you without thanks, a giant bundle of panic and adrenaline, “ok so angel blades are a no go. You read the stuff on Perun right, what kills him?”

So much for your victimless crime.

You rack your brains hoping that somewhere in those summaries, which you hadn’t even read properly, you’d flitted your eyes over the answer. But all that’s coming back to you is experts from your tacky erotica.

> _Eduardo held her by the waist, pinning her to him with every ounce of his strength. His height towering over her made her feel small, but his hands at her sides made her feel safe.  
> _

“Um, well, I’m trying to remember…” you trail off trying to buy some time.

Sam claps his hands to your shoulders like it might wake you up from a trance. “Y/N we don’t have time, you spent hours going through the Russian. He’s going to kill Dean. What do we need to use to kill him?”

> _Eduardo leaned into her with a hand fisted into her hair, “you are so beautiful my love, my Isabella. Like the morning sun that drowns out the night. Kiss me and I’ll be yours, forever.”_

“Oh my god!” you shout whisper, mindful of the enemy who would only be distracted for so long, “you got me ok. I didn’t do the reading. Are you happy? I read some shitty romance novel instead and I haven’t been doing research all week and now we don’t know how to kill this pantheon prick and he’s going to sacrifice Dean, and then you and me, and I have no idea how to gank him.”

He looks horrified and although it’s not a great moment to make a joke you think he’s probably most horrified that you weren’t doing research. Not the imminent deaths. 

You feel like he’s about two seconds away from telling you he’s disappointed, which everyone knows is worse than angry, so you ramble on hoping for the best. “Let’s just take a guess ok. I mean these idiots are normally bite the hand that feeds you types so maybe it’s something that he gets his power from can also be used to kill him?”

“So, any idea what that might be? And don’t suggest thunder, please.”

You’re pacing the shadows now willing yourself to remember anything.

“He’s hot for fire and mountains… maybe fire? Burning him? Need to get him to stay still first though.”

You lean back against the tree Sam had been tied, the bark against your back is like a jolt to your head, “oak!”

Sam raises an eyebrow at you, apparently, all the trust was gone. “Oak?”

“Yeah. His mythology is not that different from Zeus. I’m telling you, it’s oak. We’ve just got to… hey, give me a boost.”

“What?”

You thrust a finger in the direction of the alter Dean is unconscious on while Perun is anointing him with shimmering, golden oil, “I think he’ll hear us if we start trying to chop one of these trees down but if you help me up there I can probably break off a branch.”

The next five minutes involve Sam pushing you up into the tree he’d been tied to and you, not a natural tree climber, attempting to not slide back down the trunk. You eventually manage to start pulling a hefty branch back and forth but that’s when Sam hisses at you, “he’s chanting now.”

You give up being quiet for the sake of speed, holding yourself to the tree with one arm and leveraging your weight into repeatedly kicking the branch until it starts to splinter. It takes a few tries but finally, the stump of wood falls to the ground where Sam grabs it and rushes over to the sacrificial scene in front of you both. That leaves you on your own to fall, pretty pathetically, from the tree.

Perun, having sped up his words once he heard the commotion you were making, is now holding up an intricate, curved blade when Sam takes his shot. He pushes the oak branch through his chest. For a moment it looks like it hasn’t worked and only slowed him down instead but Sam, being brilliant as he is, worked it out from the rest of your rambling.

He pulls out a lighter and sets the wood on fire while the phony God is still impaled on it. The fire sets quickly and you suspect that Sam doused the branch in lighter fluid first. Perun doesn’t look angry as he burns just frozen in shock as the fire licks at him, leaving a smoldering pile of ashes in seconds.

You pull yourself up from the floor and run over to check on the elder Winchester, “Hey Dean, wake up.” Sam joins you in shaking him until Dean's eyes open and he jokes like only he can after nearly becoming a human kebab, “what’d I miss?”

* * *

 

“Hey Sammy, mind if I join you?”

He’s looking at the book he just lifted from the shelf when he glares at you like he’s not quite over you betraying the sanctity of the library.

“I’ll take that face as a yes.”

You sit down in the vacant seat next to his pile of books knowing he will have no choice but to return to his seat next to you. Which he does with pursed lips as his eyes scan the page.

“Come on, I said I was sorry. You know I love reading obscure lore books with you it’s just, I needed a break.”

He sighs, “why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“Because then you’d have tried to read my pile on top of yours and, well, how was I supposed to know that the exact information we needed would be in one of the books I pretended to read?"

Although there’s still a crease in his forehead you can see the lines of his mouth soften, “we don’t know what information we need or what book it's in, that’s kind of the point of research.”

You grin because you think that means you’re forgiven but you ask him just to double check, “so you forgive me? I can be your book buddy again?” 

“As long as you don’t call us book buddies.” This time he’s smiling too.

* * *

 

An hour later and you stand up stretching your arms and offering to go make some coffee, which he gladly encourages. When you return with two mugs he has an unexpected twinkle in his eye as he accepts one from you. 

“Oh, my Isabella, you are too kind to Eduardo.” He's put on a ridiculous Spanish accent.

You freeze for a moment, absolutely mortified. The only thing that saves you is Sam’s face, it’s not as judgemental as you might have expected, and maybe after the whole fake research thing you deserve some measure of embarrassment.

Clearing your throat, you adopt an equally bad accent, “Oh Eduardo, take me away to the sea!”

His eyebrow raises dramatically, “Kiss me my Isabella and I’ll be yours, forever.”

You join him in the laughter and throw a playful punch to scold him for teasing you. Sitting down with your coffee and returning to your reading you barely manage to stop your wistful sigh. 

God, if he kissed you right now you would be his, forever.


End file.
